Into the Forge
by Calie1
Summary: "But, there are always times when strength is tested, when you may want to give up, fall to the ground and weep. Don't let them see that Jane. Even when you're scared and want to give in, you stand your ground and remind them of who you are."


It seemed it would be Jane's lot in life to be constantly reminded that not only did the Asgardians have powerful enemies, but that the renowned god of mischief had more. Part of that was his own doing Jane knew, but part of it was because of what he was. He was so many things. Asgardian, Jotun and one of the most powerful wielders of magic in the nine realms. It put a target on his back. And as Loki had warned Jane, it also put a target on hers.

Jane hated to cower, really. Yet when you're attacked by whatever those grotesque things are you listen to the god of thunder and god of mischief when they tell you to run and hide.

That's how Jane found herself slumped on the ground behind a mammoth of a tree, drapes of green and pearl silk twisted around her legs.

Slowly, she peaked around the trunk of the twisted tree. Lightning struck down, but it was Loki her eyes were drawn to. Had she seen him fight? Not really. His magic made it sometimes unnecessary. There were to many enemies though. They were to close. It was taking magic and the use of weapons to keep himself unharmed. Magic she had become accustomed to, but it was the graceful dance as he stabbed and sliced with his daggers that she couldn't turn away from. There was beauty in the way he spun, disarmed and ducked. It was beautiful, brutal and deadly. His lean body moved easily and he followed through with stabs to the gut and neck. There were blades drawn across throats, spraying black blood. The site alone made her heart pound in her ears. Jane was so overwhelmed with the image of him she didn't notice the alien behind her until it was to late.

Jane screamed as her hair pulled from her roots. The creature smelled foul and she fought against the urge to gag They were fat and slow, but they were strong. It was no trouble for it to immobilize her and drag her back to the fighting. It yelled something in its garbled language and everyone stopped. They were out numbered if you went by numbers, but considering Thor and Loki still stood and almost all of their attackers were now dead, Jane thought the odds were in their favor. That was until she got captured.

Loki and Thor both stared at her, but it was Loki's eyes she met. She tried not show fear, but with a rusty knife to your neck your supposed to be afraid. She was. The alien continued to speak behind her, then it grasped her hair and lifted it, smelling it. Dread curled into Jane's stomach. When it grabbed her chin and yanked her head up she winced. It pressed its face against hers, speaking against her cheek. Jane would have gagged again at the smell if it wasn't for the fear curling in her belly. She didn't understand its language, but she could easily assume where the conversation was going. And if she couldn't then the look on Loki's face was enough.

"I'm going to gut you like a pig," Loki snarled. "How quickly I do it depends on how quickly you release her."

It spoke again and she could see Loki's jaw tense, his eyes narrow. Then the sharp knife pushed again her throat and she thought it was a threat, so she clenched her teeth, refusing to scream. Except the dagger moved, and warmth slid down her neck. Jane's eyes widene with panic she finally did scream.

She didn't see Loki throw the dagger, she only saw it sticking out of the monsters hand. The knife at her neck fell away and the monster growled with anger. Jane attempted to pull herself from him, but she wasn't strong enough. It didn't matter. The monster had faltered and Loki was there. It screamed, releasing her and she turned to see Loki behind it, dagger imbedded in it's side.

"You weak minded, clumsy animal," Loki snarled into it's ear. "You dare to touch, you dare to threaten my woman."

Wife, Jane's brain corrected silently, but she figured the term might have been lost on the alien. Then she mentally shook off her straying thoughts. Leave it to her think of the particulars after almost dying. Fighting behind her had resumed and Jane turned in time to see the mighty Thor take on the remaining attackers. A sickening crack made her turn back to Loki to find him throwing the alien on the ground, face first, and twisting its arm behind its back at an unnatural angle.

"Jane."

Loki's voice was cool, even, controlled. Slowly, she walked around him and came to stand in front. He had his knee in the back of her attacker and his hand in it's dirty hair, yanking it back to expose its throat and dagger lay across it. His head lifted and hard green eyes looked up at her. Sweat coated his brow, black hair hung messily around him. And he waited. Immediately Jane was thrust into the past, remembering a conversation only months ago between Sif and herself on her wedding night to Loki.

"May I offer a bit of advice?"

Jane nodded, her mind already trying to guess what the lady warrior was going to say next. The celebration around her faded to the background.

"The Aesir pride themselves on their strength. It's the reason we've remained the strongest beings in the nine realms for so long," Sif began.

Jane nodded. There was laughing and she almost looked to the side, but she stopped herself. "I'm not-."

"Your not of Asgard, I know."

Jane had eaten Idunn's apple, so the life span of an Aesir was now bestowed on her, but she'd never really be one of them.

"That is of no matter," Sif said and took a step closer. "You've married one of us, you've married the prince and if he one day ascends to the throne so will you."

Jane found that unlikely to happen, and she prayed it didn't. Thor was made to be king, and too much power always went to Loki's head. Jane found it more likely that Sif would be sitting there one day, but she wasn't going to voice that suspicion to the warrior.

"You can not be weak Jane. The wife of a warrior, a man born for the throne, the god of mischief can not be weak."

For a moment, Jane was offended and she stared at the woman. "You think I'm weak?"

Sif snorted softly. "No, anyone able to tolerate Loki is not." Then she was serious again. "But, there are always times when strength is tested, when you may want to give up, fall to the ground and weep. Don't let them see that Jane. Even when you're scared and want to give in, you stand your ground and remind them of who you are."

It was that conversation she recalled as Loki met her eyes...and waited. He was waiting. It occurred to her suddenly that there was silence and she looked up. Thor stood to the side, mjolnir hanging from his hand, the rest of their attacker at his feet. The only one left alive was the one currently in Loki's hold. And Loki waited. Loki waited on her. The god of mischief, an Asgardian and Jotun prince who had violence in his heart, who fought daily with his insatiable need for power, looked up to his wife and awaited her command to make the kill. Jane inhaled slowly and exhaled the same breath before she gave Loki a small nod.

And when he drug the dagger across the animals throat she forced herself to watch, staving off the urge to run and puke.

When it was done, and the animals blood soaked the dry ground, Loki stood and vanished his daggers. "Filthy beast," he grumbled and stepped over it.

Jane watched him wipe his hands on his pants in disgust. When he reached her he immediately lifted her chin and wiped his thumb over her neck. Jane winced. She's almost been killed. She'd almost been killed.

"Are you okay?" He asked gravely, his eyes running over her.

Jane nodded, unable to form the words.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, this time looking more closely.

"Yes," she forced out, thinking that verbal confirmation would convince him.

"You don't-."

"Stop questioning me!" Jane snaps and interrupts Thor. "I'm fine!" With a sigh meant to relax her, but really accomplished nothing, she turned back to Loki. " Can we leave now?" He blinks once, then nods and no one says a word after.

Once her feet are firmly on the bifrost she leaves both princes behind, refusing to let them continue to question her. She isn't a child. Jane walks back to her chambers alone, ignoring the looks of shock on everyone face at her dirty clothing and bloody neck.

When the doors slam shut behind her she's prepared to let go, but then she sees him standing in front of her. "Loki," she sigh in exasperation. She should have known he'd beat her. Jane doesn't say anything else and attempts to walk past him, she needs to get away from him. Except he would never allow that. His hand grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Let-."

"Don't play games with me," Loki warned and stepped forward.

"I'm not," she said with as much courage as she could muster. "I'm fine."

"You think you can lie to me? Lie to the others if you wish, but do not lie to me." Loki lifted his hand to cradle her cheek. "And you're a fool if you're fine," he tilted her head back and flickered his eyes to her neck and back up again, "because I'm not."

His hold on her face relaxed, but he didn't let go. Jane felt what strength she did have begin fade.

"Do you think I'd be okay after seeing your life just inches from being taken from me Jane?" He whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

At his admission she blinked, tears already wetting her lashes. Then he pulled her head to his chest and wrapped an arm around her back. That was all it took for the dam to break. She cried silently against his armor, clinging to it. She wouldn't sob, nothing so dramatic. Her shoulders shook and she gasped softly through her cries, but that was it. When she quieted, and leaned into him spend, he pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Anyone attempting to take you from me will know death by my hand," he whispered against her hair. "I won't let you come to harm Jane, never again."

She sighed, taking comfort in his violent words, knowing the were spoken with love.

"Even so, I think it's time you learned to fight."

Jane sighed in defeat. Somehow she knew it would come to that, but it didn't mean she had been hoping it wouldn't. "I like your daggers," she says without thinking, her memory already recalling the violent dance. She doesn't see him smile against her temple.


End file.
